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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675058">stay by my side for just a moment more (stay with me forever)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbitch/pseuds/aryasbitch'>aryasbitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>but you're a king and i'm a lion-heart [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Consensual Underage Sex, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, King Tommen Baratheon, Married Life, Non-Graphic Smut, Queen Arya Stark, Smut, arya is horny on main for tommen as usual, cersei does NOT drink her respect arya stark juice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:22:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbitch/pseuds/aryasbitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya Stark learns to play the game and handle Cersei as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arya Stark &amp; Sansa Stark &amp; Maragery Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Tommen Baratheon/Arya Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>but you're a king and i'm a lion-heart [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>stay by my side for just a moment more (stay with me forever)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>back again bitches</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommen and Arya spend the entirety of the day after their wedding in bed, kissing and consummating their marriage. Arya used to think she would never want someone that way, but now it's an insatiable desire that doesn't seem to dissipate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They refuse to leave the room the entire day, Arya’s handmaiden Ayana instead bringing them food and such as the realm and people of their kingdom allow them time to themselves. They’ve just married, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they’re also the newly crowned King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and duties for both of them must be tended to. The second day after the wedding, they both agree they can’t stay in bed anymore, despite both clearly wishing they could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya can see it in the way Tommen looks over her body as she stands from their bed, and how he attempts to pull her back to it. She evades his grasp and twirls away giggling, still naked and unashamed. Tommen groans, but stands as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it's her turn to look over him, only raising a brow as he flushes and smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they ready for the day, Ayana helping her into her corset and dress, Arya thinks of clothing of all things. A small part of her wishes she could simply pull on breeches and wear Needle by her side, but Arya also understands what her role is, no matter how she wishes to break the model of typical ladies, and now queens as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite all of the claims Septa Mordane and Cersei used to make of Arya being wild and uncontrolled, she does understand noble life. Arya has been paying attention to it ever since she arrived in King's Landing, despite her childhood hatred for being a proper lady. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so she understands the initial example she must set as the Queen of the realm. It will take time before she is accepted for wearing breeches and training with weapons, and the best way to go about it is not to practically announce it on her first public day as queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so, Arya makes no argument about wearing a dress. It is black and gold in color, typical Baratheon colors, but there are hints of silver stitched in as well, a subtle reminder to everyone that she is still a Stark. Her hair is curled loosely and half pulled back from her face to allow her crown to rest atop her hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, wearing a dress doesn't stop her from strapping the dagger Tommen had given her years prior to her side, and Ayana only huffs with fond exasperation as she sees it. But she makes no move to remove it from Arya, or even mention it vocally. When Arya is fully dressed, Ayana takes her leave, and Arya turns to see Tommen watching her with a soft smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, love?” She asks, brows raised in question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just look so lovely.” Arya just rolls her eyes, not unkindly. She knows Tommen can see her shy smile, and he meets her gaze. She takes a few steps forward, leaning her head into his shoulder as he embraces her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you don't want to spend another day in bed, my love?” She can feel him melt, just a bit, at the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I would in an instant.” He looks down at her, opening his mouth to speak, but she beats him to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we have duties to attend to, I know. You can’t fault me for asking.” She sighs in mock irritation, lips curling up as Tommen only laughs. He presses a quick kiss to her lips, which quickly deepens, but eventually, they both break apart and leave the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they had stayed any longer, she’s sure they would have fallen back into bed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arya has not seen Cersei since the wedding. Her goodmother had been seated in the front row beside Tywin, sour expression on her face throughout. Each time Arya had seen her during the ceremony after, she had been nursing a cup of wine, looking as if she wished to be anywhere else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya is thankful she is nowhere in sight now. She doesn't want a repeat of Cersei’s reaction to the betrothal, or worse. Her cheek stings with the memory of the slap Cersei had landed on her, but Arya does not reach a hand to touch it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she saw Arya now, perfectly content and with Margaery Tyrell, Cersei would surely start screaming once more. The wife of one of her sons and the ex-wife of the other, sitting together and drinking tea with complete relaxation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya feels like a proper lady, in a gown and practically gossiping with the Tyrell, but she doesn't much mind it. She is happy to speak with Margaery and doesn't care that she looks like one of the ladies she used to detest when she was just a child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She never wanted to be used to secure an alliance, or for bearing children, but things are different now. Arya is Queen, and loves her husband, who loves her back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Has there been any news on where you will go? Perhaps just back to Highgarden?” Arya inquires. Now that Joffrey is dead, and Tommen has been married to Arya, there isn’t really much of anything keeping Margaery in King’s Landing, though the thought of her leaving makes Arya’s chest ache.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe, although I have always wanted to travel North. It’s cold, of course, but I’ve heard Winterfell is also beautiful.” Margaery answer, cupping her mug of tea in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya only raises a brow, knowing smile making its way on her face, “Winterfell? And that would have nothing to do with my darling sister heading back there, would it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sansa does not have any reason to stay in Kings Landing either, no more than Margaery does. Though Arya will miss her sister dearly, she does not wish to keep her in Kings Landing when she could be back home with her mother and brothers. Arya wishes to see them as well but knows she cannot see them anytime soon. She has just been crowned, it would be unwise to leave now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has barely heard from her family, despite Tommen having no issue with her writing to them. Joffrey had forbidden it for both her and Sansa, but Tommen has no such issue with it. Arya had written and sent them a letter an hour prior, telling her mother of her marriage and new title.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s sure they have heard of her betrothal to Tommen at the very least, but Arya isn’t sure if they have heard she is now Queen. She doesn’t quite know what their reaction will be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Margaery rolls her eyes at Arya’s teasing, but she answers nonetheless. “Perhaps it does. It seems that I have grown quite attached to your sister. She is lovely, and I admit I don’t want to part from her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya is surprised at Margaery’s words, not having expected her to admit any of the feelings she harbors for Sansa, but she keeps her face relaxed, even as she has to bite her lip to keep from grinning. Margaery only stares back calmly, silently willing her to break and shout, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I told you so</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Arya nearly does, is seconds away from doing so, but Cersei Lannister walks into the room and spots them. She freezes, and Arya’s eyes flicker over her, noting the jug of wine she holds close to her chest. Arya raises a brow at her when her eyes raise to meet Cersei’s, tilting her head in mock questioning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cersei sneers at her, eyes flickering between the two girls as if deciding who to insult first. She ultimately decides on Arya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Grace-,” The words sound as if they physically pain her, “- I did not realize you would be in here. I assumed you would be in the throne room, with the King. I know you have a knack for acting less than ladylike, wouldn't you be better suited to listen to petitioners with him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya nearly laughs at Cersei’s attempt to insult her, as if she actually cares what the woman has to say about her. Her face remains blank, staring at Cersei and looking completely uninterested, until Cersei tires of it and turns her eyes to Margaery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you, My Lady. I would have thought you to be with Lady Sansa. I know you have grown quite… </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span> to her.” Margaery refuses to bite back, only cocking her head, looking as bored as Arya. “Should have guessed you would be more interested in cunt than cock, with the way you always look at Her Grace’s sister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two girls only continue to stare unflinchingly, before Arya side-eyes Margaery. They share an eye roll, Arya sighing in annoyance. Margaery looks amused, her brow raised at Cersei. Cersei glares at them, attempting to take a step towards them but stumbling from her drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How dare you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's morning, and you are already drunk.” Arya cuts her off, tired of the conversation. “Perhaps you should go lie down. You wouldn't want something to happen, would you? Wine makes one so very </span>
  <em>
    <span>clumsy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cersei gapes at her, but steps back anyways. Arya doesn't watch her leave, instead turning back to Margaery, who looks as if she is moments away from cackling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s rather tiring, isn't she? How did you stand her when you were married to Joffrey?” Arya lifts her cup back to her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Margaery shrugs, sipping at her tea before answering. “Well, thankfully, we weren’t married for very long. I do feel for you, though. I’m sorry you will be alone with her while Sansa and I are elsewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya shrugs as well, toying with the edge of her cup. “It’s alright. I’m sure I can handle Cersei, even though I will miss you and Sansa. I do enjoy the routine of you pretending to not have feelings for my sister and acting as if you don't both wish to wed and lay with the other.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya takes a sip of her tea as Margaery narrows her eyes at her words, delivered as casually as if Arya had been speaking of the weather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You bitch!” Arya throws back her head and laughs, Margaery joining in after a moment, giggles turning to identical gasps of breath as they both attempt to stop laughing and regain their breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya truly will miss her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As much as Arya hates Cersei, her insult did hold a great level of truth. She does wish she could be by Tommen's side, in petitions and meetings with his counsel and court. It doesn't seem fair for him to complete all of it while she sits to the side and sips tea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She enjoys the work as well, and it’s much more interesting than sitting around all day with her sister or Margaery. There’s only so much for them to talk about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Arya brings it up to Tommen that night, asking if she can join him, he readily agrees, admitting he had missed her presence while he had sat through his duties, as well as wanting her advice for court matters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya presses her lips against him at the confession, and the two fall into bed with ease, her hands already wandering low on his body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The following day, Arya indeed shows up to the small council meeting beside the King, crown on her head, and wearing a gown. The members of the meeting send her looks of confusion initially until one finally speaks up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Grace, is there a reason you are here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya raises a careful brow at the question, both her and Tommen’s gaze falling to Maester Pycelle. He shifts uncomfortably under their gaze but does not relent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but this is no place for a lady.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then it is a good thing she is not just a lady.” Tommen's voice is hard, and everyone’s head snaps up at the sound of their usually gentle, soft-spoken king. “She is your queen, and you will treat her as such. She will remain here, and her word will be as respected as mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The men share glances at the King's word, but remain silent. Pycelle opens his mouth, most likely to protest, but Tommen speaks again before he can even blink. Arya smirks and forces herself to ignore the flare of heat in her core at his tone. She’ll have to bring it up in bed later that night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise you, she is smarter than every man in this room combined. And do not forget your place, or that you are speaking to Arya Stark, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I advise you to consider your next words very carefully.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The entirety of the room gapes, Arya included, though her expression contains delight rather than horror. Tommen raises one brow, something Arya knows he picked up from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies, Your Grace.” The elderly man can barely look at Arya as he apologizes, blushing all the way to his roots. Arya sends him a sharp smile, and that is that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, Tommen takes her against the wall rather than the bed. Arya cries out as she peaks, and she hopes she is loud enough the entire castle can hear her, stuck-up Maester’s included.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Three months have passed since Arya married Tommen and became Queen, and she has carefully learned how to play the game. She keeps Needle in her room almost always but allows for a small dagger to rest by her hip. When stuffy lords give her looks, or when Cersei glares down at her, she pulls it from its sheath and twirls it between her fingers with the same grace as she handles Needle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she does wear Needle by her side, she receives glances that quickly turn from distaste to fear as she fingers the blade with ease, shooting the onlooker a sweet smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya trades in her breeches for traditional dresses the majority of the time, just as she had before being crowned, and finds she doesn’t mind them, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corsets are tight around her but the dresses make room for easily hidden knives. And she doesn’t mind how Tommen's eyes are drawn to her breasts more often than not. It always makes for interesting nights in bed as he tears at the tightly bound laces of the corsets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, Arya’s spent practically her entire life being stuffed into dresses; she’s used to them, and while she still doesn’t love them, and would wear breeches over a dress in a second, she understands she can’t just start wearing breeches all the time, despite how annoying the restrictions of her style is. It really shouldn't matter what she wears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, it does. And it feels as if it always will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya is the Queen of Westeros, but she is still a woman. In order to have power, and respect, and even a bit of fear from the entirety of the seven kingdoms, she can’t do it solely through being herself: a girl who enjoys swords and spits curses. Tommen would never restrict her power, or her voice, for which Arya is thankful, but it is not him she is worried about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is the rest of the kingdoms she is the queen of, who is full of men, and women, who look at her and Tommen and simply see a King and his wife. She wants them to see that she is Arya Stark, and is just as capable and intelligent and powerful as anyone else, despite the fact that she has a cunt rather than a cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya hates to bite her tongue, is unused to it, but if she curses at Cersei or insults Joffrey as often as she wants to, she knows she will lose the respect of others, and will instead just be seen as wild, as her mother and sister used to say she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, at the very least, Arya is smart enough to understand how she should go about gaining recognition and respect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With time, she incorporates breeches into her wardrobe and will wear them two or three times a week, and allows for more weaponry to be seen on her. Arya lets word spread of her talents when there’s a bow in her hand or Needle by her side, lets people hear that she is as talented with a weapon as she is at being a loved queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she is loved, even if not by the lords but by many others. The commoners of King's Landing remember her visits months prior to being crowned, remember how she had spoken to them with genuine interest and care. And now that she is their queen, they love her all the more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their King and Queen care about the people, in a way that Robert and Joffrey had not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And their love for her only increases as Arya continues to visit them, Tommen joining her occasionally. They will sit in the smithy and watch the blacksmiths make weapons, help young girls and boys with swordplay, chat with anyone and everyone they see in the streets of Kings Landing. It isn’t long before the people consider Arya to be one of them, even if she is still their Queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So the people don’t mind that she wears swords or breeches or is sometimes more foul-mouthed than a proper high-born lady should be, because she has already proved that she’s not a typical queen, and they love her for it. While the other lords and ladies dislike her impropriety at first, spitting the word itself as an insult, they too grow to love and respect her, growing used to it eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is Arya Stark, the Night Wolf, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only takes three months before almost the entirety of Westeros admires and respects Arya for who she is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>However, one can never truly be loved by everyone. And Cersei Lannister is one of the exceptions. She watches from the sidelines as Arya grows in respect, fear, love, and admiration. And she hates Arya for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she is also drunk most of the time, the wine softening her senses and thoughts. So Cersei is oblivious to Tommen's understanding of her hatred for his wife.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommen had not wanted to accept it at first, hating that his wife and mother were at such odds with the other, but Cersei is not subtle in her hatred. She curses the name of the Queen, unashamed to speak of her disgust for the younger girl, telling anyone who will listen how Arya Stark is </span>
  <em>
    <span>crude</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>a liar</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and too </span>
  <em>
    <span>improper</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a good queen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tommen and Arya hear it all, and Tommen’s fury at his mother’s cruel words grows. Arya doesn’t care much for Cersei's words, knows her fixation and love of wine makes her not just careless, but quite harmless. The drink makes her loose-lipped, yes, but also makes her dizzy and unstable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her helplessness is proven further when Tommen finally approaches her, fed up with her insults.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mother, may we speak?” Tommen takes a cautious seat opposite his mother, eyeing the jug of wine that sits on the table in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, dear. It’s been too long since we’ve talked.” Tommen nods politely, and he notes that his mother is tipsy enough that she does not notice the silent fury in his eyes. “You’ve been rather preoccupied lately, it’s nice to see you alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alone, without my wife, you mean?” Tommen cocks his head in mock ignorance, as if he isn't completely aware that his mother hates Arya. She pauses from lifting her cup to her lips, disregarding the warning tone in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I just haven’t seen you, is all I meant.” She stammers, bringing the cup up to her lips quickly. Tommen just hums, though his mother doesn't seem to catch the irritation it holds. She only smiles at him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. Mother, I’ll get right to the point.” He’s rehearsed the words enough in his mind and to Arya that he does not stammer. “I’m sending you to Casterly Rock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother chokes on her drink, wiping her mouth and staring in shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Why would you do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don't seem to be very happy mother. You're constantly drinking, and I think a change of scenery would be nice. And you grew up there, it might be nice to be there again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommen can see his Mother calculating his words, sees the furious understanding that overcomes her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can't do that. You can't send me away just because your whore of a wife doesn't like me.” Tommen sees red, but it floods his system to the point where he doesn’t want to physically lash out. So he remains seated and still. “This is my home, I don't care if that bitch wants me gone-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommen inhales and stands with such ferocity that his mother freezes. He knows his face conveys his fury clearly enough, but he is tired of pretending as if he hasn’t heard what his mother has said about his wife.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How dare you. She is not just your Queen, she is my wife. You are never to speak of her in such a way again.” Tommen’s fists clench and unclench by his side. “And, for the record, it was my idea to send you home. You are unstable, bordering on half-dead from the amount you drink each day. You are going to Casterly Rock, and that is that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns and walks away, ignoring the pleads and cries of his mother behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, she is sent on a boat to Casterly Rock, Arya standing by his side, staring out at the sea as the boat moves farther away. Their hands are clasped together, and they stand as a united force as Cersei rages against them, her shrieks of fury loud enough they can hear her until the boat has disappeared from view. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cersei’s absence means one less person Arya has to worry about, and she instead focuses on her duties and her sister. Sansa and Margaery are set to head to Winterfell the following day, so the three prepare to say goodbye in the form of drinking and talking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re sat together in Arya’s room, Tommen having been kicked out for the night so the three girls can spend time together. Arya has already promised to make up for it with sweet kisses and sex, though she would never tell her sister or Margaery that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, she would, if she knew Sansa wouldn’t shriek and declare it as scandalous. Margaery would most likely just roll her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All three lounge on the bed, still with considerable space between them due to its enormous size.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all giggle over childhood stories, cheerfulness and stories easier with the help of the wine. They’d all wordlessly agreed to not worry about titles or propriety at the start of the night, though Sansa still seems scandalized as Arya brings up marriage between Sansa and Margaery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arya!” The redhead shrieks, Arya having just asked if the two had agreed to wed yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just saying! I know you two have both thought about it, and I want to know now in person rather than over a letter when you’re North.” Sansa and Margaery only share a look, seeming to have a silent conversation. “What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” Sansa starts, “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, but-” She pauses, cheeks flushing, though Arya is not sure if it's from her drink or discomfort. It’s revealed to be neither, however, when Margaery speaks next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve talked of marriage, actually. As of yesterday, we both wish to be wed, with your blessing to the match.” Arya can only stare, unable to process the words. Sansa is staring, trying to gauge her reaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, the words register in Arya’s mind, and she has half the mind to set her drink down before pulling them into a tight embrace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Arya pulls back, her eyes are wide, but her mouth is set in a large grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, of course! This is incredible. Truly. I’m so happy for you both!” Sansa smiles in relief, grasping Margaery’s hand and twining their fingers together. The brunette smiles at the redhead, pressing a gentle kiss to her lover’s cheek. “Also, I told you so! I knew it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Arya!” All three dissolve into giggles at Sansa’s words, Sansa nearly falling into Margaery’s lap with the force of her giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Arya sobers as a thought crosses her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no.” She groans, the other two girls looking up in alarm. “I won’t be able to attend the wedding! I can’t leave Kings Landing so soon, and I’ll have to miss it. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Margaery leans closer to stroke her hair in comfort, “It’s alright. You’re the Queen, it's understandable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sansa nods in agreement. “Though I do wish you could be there. And Tommen as well. I’m sorry you won't be able to see Mother for quite a while, or our brothers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya sighs at the mention of their family, sorrow wrapping around her heart. “I miss them so much. You’ll have to embrace them on my behalf. And tell them to write to me, please. I want to hear how they’ve been.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sansa nods and smiles before responding, “You have to write to me as well as our brothers! I’ll miss you so much.” Tears well in Arya’s eyes, much to her embarrassment, as she realizes that her sister and Margaery really are leaving tomorrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no. Please dry your tears! We’ll be back to visit before you know it.” Margaery says the moment she sees a tear trail down Arya’s cheek, and the Queen can barely nod through her sniffles before all three have piled back into another hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they separate, Arya is quick to wipe away her tears, grabbing one of Sansa’s hands and one of Margaery’s. The three are silent for a moment in quiet contemplation, before they begin to go back to sharing stories, unwilling to spend the night with tears and sorrow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After Arya and Tommen have said their teary goodbyes to Sansa and Margaery, who are equally teary-eyed, they stand and watch as they are sent off in a carriage, a fleet of knights and soldiers with them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hours before, that morning, Arya had told Tommen of the match between her sister and Lady Margaery. He had permitted it the instant the words left her mouth, and the King and Queen spared a moment to giggle over both having known they would end up together before they publicly declared approval of the match. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya is sure Robb will be insufferable after hearing of it, ever the protective brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winterfell, and the Starks, know of Sansa returning home alongside Margaery, as Arya had written them a letter to tell them the news of Sansa returning home. But they have no idea of the betrothal, and word will not spread fast enough for them to hear before Sansa arrives home with her future bride in tow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya wishes she could see her family's reaction, but she’ll just have to have Sansa describe it in a letter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sansa being gone makes Arya’s heart ache, but she’s surprised at the lack of loneliness she feels without her sister by her side. But then again, how can she, with Tommen by her side and the unborn child growing in her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya turns to her husband, smiling up at him as he pulls her into his side, and imagines his reaction to hearing of her being with child. She can only smile into his neck at the thought of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arya pulls back from his embrace, kissing him gently, and the two walk back to the castle. With hands linked, and hearts aligned, they make their way back to their home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was probably my worst fic yet i apologize</p></blockquote></div></div>
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